Mr. and Mrs. Smith

(Daily Post 3/3/17)

I sauntered into the party, my black dress clinging to my curvy body, the hemline hitting just below my knees with a slit that extended up the right side to just above mid-thigh. The halter top accented my ample bust and the four-inch stiletto heels gave me both visual stature and highlighted my already tight calf muscles. I searched the room for him, certain he was already here. He was the reason I was here, the only reason I came to this particular party. Taking a glass of champagne from a passing waiter, I pulled the rim of the crystal to my crimson lips and took a long sip, letting the bubbly sensation wash over me.  Another swallow and I began to circle the room, prey moving in for her kill.

I spotted him, looking absolutely scrumptious in his Armani suit. His chestnut brown hair was cropped close on the sides, longer on the top. Loosely styled, it was primed for me to run my fingers through it while my lips were otherwise engaged. His blue eyes shimmered like a clear morning desert sky. Plump, pink lips were drawn into a bow shaped smile. My body shivered at the mere thought of the things I could do to him. Swirling the liquid in my glass, I downed my champagne, eyes focused on him. Finally, he saw me, and his eyes locked onto me. I could see the desire in his eyes from across the room. An instinctive smile rose on my lips and I ran my fingers across them, teasing him.

A playful grin flashed on his face as he excused himself from the group he was with, his eyes never leaving me. I flashed down another waiter, steeling myself with more champagne. Moving towards the center of the room, we met one another under the crystal chandelier. “You’re beautiful.” He got straight to the point. Two could play that game. “And you’re quite the rakishly handsome man yourself, Mr. Smith.” His eyes slipped from my face to my décolletage momentarily and I knew I had him. I smiled knowingly, slowly looking him up and down, admiring every inch of this gorgeous man. “Well Mrs. Smith, shall we go home then?” I took my husband’s hand and we made our way to the waiting limousine. Our monthly charade had played out and now we could enjoy our night.

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